• Язык:
    Немецкий (Deutsch)

Der kranke


In Fieberträumen quält sie mich allein –
Im Umriß scharfer Linien – die Unendlichkeit,
Und ständig hör ich Glockenklänge schrein,
Wie Stundenschläge riefen Ewigkeit.

Mir scheint, es wird so sein nach meinem Scheiden,
Daß, mit der quälerischen Hoffnung des Erweckens,
Die Augen durch des Neben Finster eilen,
Um einst bekanntes Sehen wieder zu entdecken.

Doch in der Finsternis des ersten Ozeanes
Sind Stimmen nicht, nicht grüner Gräser Strähnen;
Sind Würfel nur und Rhomben, Ecken, Kanten
Und Schreckensklänge, die kein Ende nehmen.

O Träumen, will dir länger nicht mehr wehren!
Will gehen, wie zum Feste des Versöhnens,
Auf gelben Stränden längst ergrauter Meere,
Um große, schwarze Steine abzuzählen.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Алла Бураго, Бартон Раффел
    The Sick Man
  • Артур Лехман
    The Sick Man
  • Венгерский
    Иштван Бака
  • Литовский
    Гинтарас Патацкас
  • Сербский
    Владимир Ягличич

А вот еще:

Remember the palace of giants…

Remember the palace of giants, / The pool, full of silvery fish, / Alleys of planes, the highest, / And keeps made of huge stone bricks; / / As my golden horse at the towers / Was prancing, so proud and strong, / And gems decorated his harness / In patterns of delicate work. / / ...

The ship

"What d' you see in my eyes, slightly sparkling, / In my look, hazed with opaque mist?" / "There I saw the sea's deepest darkness / With a big sunken beautiful ship. / / That fine ship... More glorious and braver / None had seen over deep of the sea. / Its high masts under windbreath ...

A fragment of «Tale of Kings»

Once a dark horseman oh a black horse came / He was clad in a black velvet cloak, full of pride. / And his look was so dreadful, as a town aflame, / And so glaring as a flash in the night. / / Curly hair upon shoulders like serpents did twist, / And his voice was a song of the earth and...


Today, I can see that your glance is especially sad, / And hands are especially thin and the hair if up fluff. / Hey, listen, as far as in Africa, down at lake Chad / Is walking a graceful Giraffe. / / He's owing that elegance, slender and languor he is, / Such beautiful patterns are sh...

The Gates of Paradise

There are no seven diamond seals to close / the eternal gates of God's great paradise / it has no tempting charms, no beckoning glow / and to the people remains unrecognized. / / a doorway in a wall long since forsaken / a mass of stones and moss and nothing more. / nearby, a beggar, ...

A portrait of a man

His eyes are lightless underground lakes, / Abandoned castles of the ancient kings. / Marked with the sign of the eternal shame / Of that, the Other One, he never speaks. / The deepest wound, his mouth, dark and purple, / Made with a blade borne of the deadly poison; / And it is sad and ...